


The council of wolves and snakes

by dirty_thunderstorm



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Cannibalism, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Will Graham, M/M, Memory Palace, Murder Husbands, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Will as Ulysses, Will as a divine force, but like in a Dante Alighieri way, multiple POVs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:14:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29518611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirty_thunderstorm/pseuds/dirty_thunderstorm
Summary: «I guess that makes Mason Verger a Circe, then. Transforming men into pigs.» He grins and all I want to do is touch his scarred back, to feel his skin under my hands. He shows me the book he had been reading. An edition of the Odyssey bound in blue cloth, blue as the sea, blue as the sky on that fateful night. «I prefer Dante's Ulysses, to be honest. He came home, but he set back to sea soon after.» He sighs. «To find his end sailing beyond the pillars of Hercules, in search of knowledge.»Everything goes back to normal, after the fall. Or so it seems. Will has changed, even though no one sees it, and he wants to set Hannibal free. The price might be high, but Will has to pay it.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	The council of wolves and snakes

_Become through earned  
And granted liberation  
Rise above the secrecy  
And silent deception_

_Clarity is determined  
At the depths of murky waters  
The potion of black earthed blood  
Is the sludge draining the conscious_

_Part 1_The Empyrean Phoenix_

A wall of water so dark and so cold and so deep, a mind-shattering impact.  
The soft beeping of hospital equipment.  
«Soon, all this will be lost to the sea.» An echoing voice.  
Blood shining in the moonlight.  
Hands that operate, cure, hands that hold close.  
The stabbing of a knife, a surgeon’s tool.  
«I intend to watch him change you.» But no, no, that’s not what happened, I’m the one who has changed, I was wrong, you were wrong, Francis, so wrong...  
A drop of saltwater turning into blood.  
«I love you, Will» The world’s loudest whisper.  
The scent of his bloodstained skin, the warmth of his body protecting me from the bulk of the impact. Wine and blood and water and wasn't there someone who wrote about the wine-colored sea?

Blue. Eyes wide open, the ceiling is blue.

«Hello, Will.» 

Hannibal, is it you? I blink three times. It’s Jack, sitting next to my bed. Where’s Hannibal? Something is gnawing at my guts.

«H-hello, Jack.»

«No, no, don’t try to get up, you had… huh,» He smacks his lips. «Quite a terrible day.»

«How much time...»

«One week.» He sighs. 

«What happened?» I can’t move my neck, everything hurts.

«I was hoping you’d tell me, Will.»

«We… we killed him.» Blood, black and beautiful. «And then...» My throat goes dry. And then I realized I loved Hannibal as much as he loved me, I needed him as much as he needed me, and it was too much. Let the sea decide.

«Let me guess. You tried to kill him, and he brought you with him?»

It’s hard to talk, I can only manage a moan of pain. Maybe it’s better this way.

«Don’t get stressed too much, we’ll have time to talk when you’re feeling better. Congratulations on killing Dolarhyde, though. The merit is all yours, officially.»

«I wouldn’t have managed it without him.» I swallow saliva. «Where’s Hannibal, Jack?»

«Unfortunately, still alive. There were journalists on helicopters, Will, we couldn’t just save you and let him drown. We’ll get another opportunity to get rid of him.» He shakes his head. «He’s recovering in a room like this one. Well, with many guards, as you can imagine.»

«Do I have guards too?»

«You do, but mostly to deter journalists.»

«Be careful, I bet Freddie Lounds is getting dressed as a nurse at this very moment.» I laugh, and everything hurts physically, but mentally I’m floating above everything. He’s alive. Everything can still be set. Everything is possible. I can free him, but I’m going to need Chiyoh. Which means, I’m gonna need to talk to Hannibal. I’m sure he knows how to reach her.

«Jack, when I’m feeling better, I want to go back to the FBI. And not as a teacher, I want to help you.» This will be the first step.

Jack raises an eyebrow. «Are you sure?»

«It has been foolish of me to try to believe I could get away.»

«You don’t have to do this.»

«No, but I want to. I’m good at what I do, Jack, and I want to keep doing it. I need a goal in my life.» I’d raise my arm, try to point at the ceiling light, but I can’t move anything without excruciating pain.

«I’d be happy to have you back, of course.» He sighs, a badly hidden smile on his face. «But what about your family?»

I’m sorry, Molly. «They’ll understand. And, if I have to be fully honest...» I take a deep breath. «I need to be alone for a while, Jack. I got a lot to process.»

«You sound like Bella.» He sighs. «And not in a good way.»

«I’m not thinking about suicide, don’t worry.» Not anymore. «In fact, I’ve never felt better. And it’s thanks to the Red Dragon, how ironic.»

«You almost died, thanks to the Red Dragon.»

I died, back there. I died when the Red Dragon tried to kill Hannibal, my heart ached with such clarity that my soul became a flame. I can’t live without him. Can’t die with him either, it seems. Let me see if I can live with him, then. If the price is some blood in the moonlight, so be it. I am the one who changed, not the Red Dragon. I am reborn.

«Well, I’ll go. You clearly need to rest now.» Jack gets up.

«Promise me you’ll think about it. All of this must have a meaning, a goal. Otherwise it's just pointless suffering.»

«I promise.»

Of course you will, Jack. Of course. But you have already decided in your heart.

This will give me access to Hannibal. I can’t set him free alone, but with Chyioh’s help… I’m sure he can tell me how to reach her.

I can’t get Hannibal’s face out of my head, the absolute relief of his face as we hugged. I’d never seen anything like that before.

I adjust my head on the pillow, drenched in my own sweat. I’ll leave all of this, we’ll leave together, hopefully without any more blood to spill.

The water in the cup on my nightstand turns red for a moment.

_Part 2_Aetheric_

«Will, please, come in, I can’t wait to get used to having you around again.»

I sit on the chair that faces Jack’s desk, and Hannibal is sitting next to me. A second later he is gone, he has retracted to the innermost depth of my mind. I smooth my jacket. «I've been to BSCHI this morning.»

Jack's smile vanishes, as if a cloud covered the sun. «Why?»

«Because I wanted to see Hannibal Lecter, Jack.» I grab the edge of the chair's armrest and cross my legs. «Apparently, no one can.»

«He cannot send messages, calls, or see anyone." He shakes his head. His hair is more grey than ever, and yet he looks somewhat ageless.

«Not even the FBI?»

«Why do you want to see him, Will?»

His eyes pierce me. It's as if he can read inside me, as if he knows, he can detect the burning embers I carry in my chest. I lower my gaze, drawing a labyrinth of imaginary lines on the floor.

«Because,» I clasp my hands, «I want him to see that I am still alive. That he won't' get rid of me so easily.»

«I appreciate your spirit, Will, I really do. But that can't be done»

«Not unless a new enigmatic killer steps on the scene, I guess.» I play with one of Jack's pens. «Which you know is going to happen, sooner or later.»

Jack nods. «You know, I'm not a religious person, but I sometimes believe that Lecter is the devil.»

«You don't believe in God, but you do believe in the Devil.»

«I have proof of his existence, at least. Can't say much for the former.» A bitter laughter. «Look, since he's here people have killed in the most creative and absurd ways. It's as if they're attuned to him, and vice versa, and he fashions them into killers.»

«Oh, but he doesn't transform them, he just tends to them, like a gardener would.»

Pruning. Abgail's blood, as red as rose petals.

Grafting. The Muralist, sewed in his painting.

Trimming. Miriam Lass's prosthetic arm.

«Their potential to bloom was already there.» If he has an influence, it's in the artistic part. Almost as if he brings out the artistic core of everyone, and of course what we see is the murderers. «If you have to kill, you might as well do it beautifully.» I shrug, slouching on the chair. My eyes burn as I stare at the ceiling light.

«Beautifully.» Jack shivers. «He isn't a gardener, he's a snake. Literally, it was on his family's crest.»

A rusty gate protruding from the fog. Lithuania. «Beautifully according to your own essence, of course.» My eyes burn, a single tear rolls down my cheek.

Jack rests his chin on his hands. «I missed your understanding.»

I miss Hannibal. «I'm here to help you, Jack.» I adjust my glasses.

«We can set fire to his garden of killers.» He rubs his hands.

«I was thinking more of a flood.»

«Flood, I like that.» Jack smiles and gets up. «Come, let's grab lunch.»

I follow him. Build your boat, Jack. Build your boat and carry them all, because the flood is coming.

_Part 3_The Unveiling_

The man follows the woman along the street, and I follow him.

It’s our neat little game.

The neon lights of the corner store are reflected in the puddles, a brief respite from days of merciless rain. Far from the warmth of the pub, only flickering lamp posts and a cold cloudy night wait for us.

He’s not aware of me, but I’ve been looking at him. From a distance. I’ve seen him harass the bartender, forced to smile at his disgusting comments. I’ve seen him leave for last, and he’s so focused on following the bartender back home that he’s not aware of me. He’s also half drunk, which helps.

The bartender picks up her pace and turns the corner, the man huffs and grins. He’s annoyed, but excited about his pursuit.  
What a coincidence, so am I.

The knife comes first, my hand on his mouth. I cut his throat. He can’t scream, he falls on his knees as air bubbles gurgle up from the gash. A sad excuse for a scream, a sad excuse for a man. I drag him to the alley nearby, where I can finish my job quietly. I bite the man’s shoulder, tearing away skin and muscle. His skin smells awfully, but his blood covers all smells. I store his flesh in a little plastic zipper bag, and cut him around my bite, just to be safe. I cut him up nicely, severing the limbs.

They’ll know I took something from him, but they won’t know I’ve tasted him.

He’s already dead. I leave him there, to be discovered maybe tomorrow, maybe the day after tomorrow. These alleys aren’t nice.

I head back home.

This is my design.

I blink, and I’m back here, only it’s daytime. White clouds cover the sky, and the blood that hasn’t been washed away by the rain has now darkened to a stain.

I nod, and Jack comes forward, accompanied by a young woman I’ve never seen before. Dark hair, amber skin and freckles, wears a FBI badge.

«Will, this is Gabriela Martinez. Gabriela, this is...»

«Will Graham, it’s an honor to meet you.» She extends her hand. She really has a lot of freckles on her nose, like tiny drops of blood.

I shake her hand and nod. 

«She’s recently graduated, top marks. I figured it was time to add someone to the team, after all.» Jack smiles like a proud father. 

«Jack told me everything about you, it’s very exciting to be here.»

«Now I’m officially concerned about what Jack told you.» I wipe my glasses with my sleeve, both of them laugh. 

«Your method is amazing. Do you think this is the fourth victim of the Beast?»

«The Beast?» 

«Yeah, that’s how they call the killer on, well...» she sighs, «Tattlecrime.»

«Of course. I stopped reading that when Lounds called Hannibal Lecter and me “murder husbands”.» I mimic the brackets with my hands. «Anyway, I would’ve gone for something wolf-related myself.» 

Perhaps I should just email Freddie. She’d love that.

«Oh, they call him the Beast because of, you know, the Beauty and the Beast.» She shrugs. «A woman recognized one of the Beast’s victims as the man who groped her on the bus.»

«I see. Beast or not, it’s the same killer, trophy and all. Tell me what you think of this case, then. You don’t mind, Jack?»

He laughs. «By all means, I want to see what she’s capable of.»

Gabriela takes a deep breath and paces around the crime scene.

«Well, the killer is a man, I think. It takes some brute force, so it’s either a man or a very strong woman.»

«Could it be a woman who trained a lot and is now avenging her fellow women, something like that?» Offers Jack. 

«No, I don’t think so. He...» She bites her lower lip. «He wants women to feel free late at night, so maybe something bad happened to a relative, sister or girlfriend. He’s the kind of man who can walk at night in places like this without being noticed. An ex convict, maybe? Someone who was wrongfully convicted of something?»

She’s not half wrong. «Why do you say that?»

«There’s a craving for justice behind these murders, I think.»

I nod. «You were right, Jack. She’s good.»

She smiles a bright, white smile. Youth, expectations, enthusiasm. Poor Gabriela. I almost feel sorry I’ll have to guide her a little, but at least he has found someone that can replace me.

I gesture to Jack, and he follows me.

«Another horse to your stable?» I whisper. 

An agent is removing the victim’s right arm, half stuck in the gutter drain. Another is packing the left leg. Zeller is mumbling something next to the man’s torso.

Jack shakes his head. «I’m very happy to have you back on the field, but I figured you might need some help.»

I nod. «This is the fourth victim, Jack. How many more will die?» Let me see him, please. I’m not sure I’m ready yet to discover how many people I am able to kill to get to him. I might not be ready for the answer. You certainly wouldn’t, Jack.

Jack shakes his head. «No, Will, I don’t want you to deal with him unless it’s absolutely necessary. I’m just afraid the next stab to your neck might be the fatal one.»

A darker cloud covers the sky above us. «I assure you, Jack, I have no intention to die.»

«I know.» He puts a hand on my shoulder. «Gabriela is good. You won’t need to face him again.»

I nod. «I hope she’s enough. I’ve been in his mind, Jack. The Beast’s mind.» I take a deep breath. «Frankly, I have no idea if he’ll stop.»

«He will stop, because we will catch him.»

If I’m the Beast, does that make Hannibal my Beauty? He certainly is striking, in his own way. My princess locked in the tower. I wonder if he received my gift.

_Part 4_The Archaic Correspondence_

«You got mail.»

The orderly, a dark skinned man dressed in white, pushes the envelope in the box and leaves. There’s a hint of cheap aftershave, and he should definitely get his liver checked.

Fan mail, newspapers. The Beast kills again, printed in big, red letters. I love your style, Will. Simple, but effective.  
There’s also a brown envelope. The address of the sender isn’t marked, and something twists inside me, a sensation that would’ve been so foreign a few years ago and now so familiar, so aching. Like when you can finally taste your favorite wine after years, or see the sky above Florence. Florence...

I open it, the scent of human meat and flesh reaches my nose. A piece of tissue with a strong bite mark on it, as if someone bit the victim’s flesh and cut up the skin to collect it, like a botanist with a precious specimen.  
And what a specimen! Oh, Will, this goes beyond my deepest expectations.  
The scent of his lips transports me to the Norman Chapel.  
I stand there, right where a sun ray warms the back of my head, wearing my night blue suit. Yes, blue would be perfect.  
Will walks along the rows of benches, a smile on his face.  
For a moment I’m reminded of an old version of Will, the version that tried to deceive me and suffered through it, who believed he could perform all actions necessary for a change and somehow not change. Who changed me while doing it.  
But his smile is honest.  
He takes my hand in his hand and brings it to his lips. He kisses my knuckles with care and love, and every second his lips touch my skin lasts a century.  
He places a kiss on my lips, a single kiss, soft and chaste.  
«He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him.» Whispers Will, and hands me the victim’s flesh.  
I bow my head and receive the communion from his hand.  
My soul is reborn with this eucharist, given from the lamb who has become a wolf.  
It is only fitting that our first kiss would be shared like this. 

_Part 5_Interdimensional Summit_

Gabriela stares at the collage on the wall and sighs. She’s exhausted, because of course she is. She takes a sip of her coffee, now cold.

The faces of the Beasts’ victims - my victims - stare back at me. It’s such a strange feeling, almost a dissociating one. I am Will, and I am the Beast. And these men, too, are multiple things. They’re John, Marcus, Michael… and they’re two guys who followed women into the night and a dude who tried to take a picture under a young girl’s skirt. I can’t say I’m proud, but I can’t say I regret it either.

«I feel like we’re missing something.» She points at a man’s face with a pen.

«I’m sorry if I’m not as brilliant as you expected.» I smile and adjust my glasses.

«Reality is much less brilliant than I expected.» She offers me a sad smile. «And contains many more monsters too. I know, I know, naive.» She shrugs. 

«No, that’s human. All you study at the academy feels distant, like case studies, they don’t feel real. This does.» I point at a picture of a man’s arm in a pool of blood on the sidewalk. My third victim.

She nods. «You know what worries me? These two.»

«His last two victims?» I’m lucky they underestimated me.

«He’s never killed two men at once. Did he get someone to help him?»

«No, I...» I run a hand through my hair. «I think he’s just gotten more bloodthirsty.»

«Seven victims, Will. Jack isn’t going to like this.»

No, he isn’t. 

«What am I not going to like?» Jack appears at the door.

«We can’t see a pattern for him.» I massage my forehead. «He just kills, and kills, leaving no trace. The rain doesn’t help.»

«Witnesses?» Jack crosses his arms. 

«None,» Gabriela grabs her folder, «and the women who think they’ve seen something, they prefer not to talk. They feel he saved them, and I can’t blame them.»

«Sorry to disappoint you, Jack.» I put up a shy smile.

«Maybe...» Gabriela takes a deep breath. «Maybe I should just act as bait? Wear a mini skirt, walk alone.» A short, embarrassed laughter.

Jack sighs and stares at the victims. Oh, he’s considering it. Jack, you really are considering it.

«It’s too dangerous, Gabriela.» I say, before Jack can say anything. 

Jack stares at me, I hate when he does that, I hate when anyone does it, except him.

Gabriela shrugs and drinks her coffee like one would drink alcohol to get some courage. «Well, then I hate to be the one to suggest this, but I’ve been studying the cases Will solved in the past, and maybe...»

The world stops around me. The clock stops ticking. Say the words, Gabriela. Say just those words and you’ll be spared.

«Look, I’ll do it, I think we should ask Hannibal Lecter.»

«No!» Both me and Jack talk at the same time.

«Forget about it, I’m not sending you to him.» Jack shakes his head.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. «I agree with Jack, the less people have to deal with him the better. That’s why I’ll go.»

Jack looks at me as if someone just cut his throat again.

«No, no, that would be too much for you.»

«You aren’t my psychiatrist, Jack.»

«You’re right, your latest psychiatrist tried to kill you multiple times.»

Not Bedelia. Hm, I wonder where did she go. We’ll have to pay a visit, I think.

«Someone has to do this, she’s right.» I point at Gabriela. «Don’t trust me, trust her.»

«I trust you, Will, it’s just that...» Jack wipes sweat off his forehead. His eyes wander on the victims’ photographs. 

«We just have to talk, Jack. He’ll give us some insight. I understand killers, Jack, but he’s one of them. That’s different.» We’re the same, my beloved. 

Jack claps his hands and it’s like he’s praying. «Why do I feel I’ll regret it?»

Because you will. But you’re also saving lives. I don’t have the artistic sense of Hannibal, and I really don’t want to start to do creative stuff with corpses, not with their corpses anyway, they didn’t deserve it. Perhaps I should’ve recreated twisted fairytales. But that’s not my style.

«Fine, good, go.» 

I nod, slowly, while a storm awakens in my chest. Hannibal, I’m coming for you.

_Part 6_Council of Wolves and Snakes_

Hannibal's cell has been redecorated. The shelves are full of books, he has his table, his drawings, everything else. Wherever she is, Alana kept her promise.

If he's aware that I'm here - and I'm sure he is - he pretends not to, laying on his bed with a book in hand. A deep, trembling breath travels through my body. I had feared Jack had found a way to kill him. But he's here, and he's alive. Both of us.

All that blood I spilled feels worthwhile now.

I take a step forward. «Hello, Hannibal.»

«Will.» He gets up slowly, like a tiger lounging in his cage. «I'm glad to see you've recovered.»

My reflection merges with his figure. «It’s good to see you.»

His eyes betray a hunger hidden by his plain voice. Do I betray the same hunger? That’s not mild curiosity, that’s aching.

«To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?»

Even the word pleasure sounds different in his mouth.

«To quote Jack, I'm back in the saddle. Can't live without this job.» A nervous laughter. I wish i looked as imperturbable as he does, but then again, maybe this is my strength. Don't show any feelings, and people will wonder what's in your mind. Show one, and people will accept it.

«What did your wife say about it?» He takes a step forward. Curious as always, Hannibal.

«Oh, she understands.» My throat feels dry. «Told me she expected it.»

«Poor Penelope, waiting for her Ulysses to come back from the war.» He whispers to the transparent wall.

«Yeah, well...» I shrug.

«I guess that makes Mason Verger a Circe, then. Transforming men into pigs.» He grins and all I want to do is touch his scarred back, to feel his skin under my hands. He shows me the book he had been reading. An edition of the Odyssey bound in blue cloth, blue as the sea, blue as the sky on that fateful night. «I prefer Dante's Ulysses, to be honest. He came home, but he set back to sea soon after.» He sighs. «To find his end sailing beyond the pillars of Hercules, in search of knowledge.»

It looks like I've found the knowledge I needed, after all. «I'm glad you have some time to read, I can't say the same of myself.»

«Tell me, Will...» A semi-invisible twitch in his eyes. He's interested, very interested. «Do you need me?»

I need you. The words form on my lips, and it would be so easy to utter them, so easy. Look, Bedelia, am I aching enough? All the water in the world won't put this fire out, I tried with an entire ocean and it wasn't enough.

«There is a new killer, yes. I’m sure you’ve heard of him.»

«Can’t say I haven’t.»

«Yeah, as we expected. He takes trophies too.» I place the folder in the slot. 

He collects it and browses through the pages.

«How unfortunate.» A sly smile. Oh, he understands. He got my letter, then. «Jack is lucky that we understand this kind of people.»

«He is.» He lays the photographs on the table and ponders. «The style is.. simple, quite brutal, but not entirely unrefined. Dionysiac, I’d say.»

I almost say thanks.

«He has killed before, we think.» I adjust my glasses.

He nods. «He has a purpose now, that he didn’t have before. A clear one. Look beyond the simple victims, Will.»

«What are we going to find?» This game is almost intoxicating.

Hannibal takes a step forward, his face a few inches from the transparent wall. «His love…» a twitch of his lips, «For violence.»

I take a deep breath. I wish I could smash this wall and run away with him, right now, before I go mad talking to myself - or worse, on the phone with Molly, pretending everything is alright - in that shitty motel room.

«Ulysses had helpers, right? Among the gods.» I point at the photographs.

«Some gods wanted him dead. Like Poseidon, god of the sea.» Hannibal looks at me as he mentions the word sea, with arched eyebrows as if I just suggested a terrible pairing of food and wine. If we get out of this alive, I’m never going to see the end of it. 

«Some, like Athena, wanted to help him.» He displays the photographs one after the other. «Athena, goddess of strategy and warfare… among other things.» He points at the numbers.

Three, seven, nine… I nod, a lump in my throat. Here’s how I can call Chiyo now.

***

I shiver in my coat, pinching the numbers in the public phone. I hope she picks up.

«Yes?» Chiyo's voice.

Relief washes all over me. «Hi, it's me. He gave me this number.»

«I know. What do you want?»

«I need your help to save him.»

«How do I know you aren't going to kill him?»

«Because I, huh...»

Families strolling in the park, a couple walks hand in hand, a dog peacefully sniffing the grass in front of them.

«Because,» I swallow, «I love him, and I'd drown the world for him.» I whisper.

«That took you some time.» I can hear her smirk from the other end of the phone. 

«Don't say anything else. I will contact you. Goodbye.»

I guess that's a yes.

_Part 7_Lightbringer_

_Two weeks later, Hannibal’s cell._

Jack storms in the room, with an air of vengeful fury like an old testament God. He wears blue gloves and he’s agitating a piece of paper, possibly evidence from a case.

«Good morning, Jack.»

«What did you do to him?» he roars.

«I’m not sure I understand.» 

«Will has disappeared, and I’m sure it’s your fault!» He points his finger at me.

I shrug. «He’s not here, evidently.»

«Oh, don’t mock me, Lecter. He left a letter to his wife and kid, a letter in which he says not to look for him.» He points at the wrinkled paper. That’s Will's handwriting. He did it, he really did it. A fire rekindles the embers of my soul.

«I don’t know how, but I’ll find out how this is linked to you. If I find the smallest possible proof, you’re dead.» His voice is so sharp that it could cut through ice.

«Oh, Jack, always ready to be the eagle gnawing at my liver. Don’t worry, it regrows every day.»

He’s perplexed, then sighs. He must’ve remembered the myth of Prometheus.

«I brought fire to humans, I didn’t tell them what they should burn.» I savor my words, the only pleasure I’m left here.

«The only fire you carry is the devil’s.»

«Lucifer is a bringer of light and knowledge, traditionally speaking.»

«I don’t have time for your mythology games, Lecter. Did you send the Beast to kill him? No, to kidnap him, and he wrote this under a knife's threat.» He shakes his head in disbelief. 

The only knife was the one he was using, Jack.

«I gave him my hindsight on the Beast, Jack, and not much else. Whatever happened later is not my responsibility.»

He shakes his head. «I should have killed you when I had the chance. Now Will is in the hands of a monster who enjoys separating people from their limbs.»

Typical Jack, so close to the truth, and yet so far. «Have you ever heard of the The Beast of Gévaudan? No? Well, in the late eighteenth century, in southern France, many people were found dead, slashed and partially eaten by some vicious creature. Some sources say hundreds of people died this way, mutilated by a giant man-eating wolf. The army did its best, but no monsters were found - only wolves.» I lean on the table behind me. «Turns out, there were no supernatural creatures involved, only hungry animals.»

«What’s this supposed to mean?»

«That monsters don’t exist, Jack. Only humans and animals. Whether this is scary or liberating, you must decide for yourself.»

He storms out without saying a word.

_Part 8_Alpha Aeon Omega_

Jack gets in the car. He grabs the wheel, then takes a long, deep breath.

«It’s been a week, Gabriela. No traces, no clues, nothing.»

«Are you sure Lecter’s involved?»

Jack starts the car. «He tried to slice his skull because he wanted to eat his brain, once. In front of me.» 

This wasn’t in any reports. I wonder how many things happened that only Jack and Will have seen. Or doctor Bloom, even.

The sky’s clearing, but it doesn’t feel right, for this to be a sunny day. Not for us. «At least the killings have stopped.» That’s not really consolating, honestly, not as much as I expected. It just adds to this weird sensation, it’s as if time has stopped.

«They’ve stopped because the Beast has what he wants. Will.»

«Do you think Lecter really hated him? Despite his skull-slicing thing, I mean.» I feel stupid just saying it. If not hate, then what else?

«Why do you ask?»

«He saved his life many times. And vice versa. They’re connected, somehow.»

Jack sighs and nods.

A notification on my phone. A new article on Tattlecrime is out, apparently. Tattlecrime. «”The Beast: What would the murder husbands do?” That’s really...»

«Ignore that trash.»

An idea pops into my brain, too absurd to be true.

«Jack...» I mutter. 

«Hm?»

«Have you considered that Will might be the Beast?»

«Will is not a killer, we established it some time ago. He has a family he wants to protect, why would he go around killing people?» He glances at my phone screen, with the Tattlecrime article still open. «Don’t take that trash too seriously, Gabriela. Freddie will say anything she thinks her public might enjoy.»

And yet, and yet… as buildings pass quickly in front of my eyes, so do my thoughts. What if Lecter could understand this killer because he already knows him? But it doesn’t make any sense, why would he do it? They were close, Lecter and Will, but this seems too much. Or is it?

Jack’s phone rings, he picks up through the car’s bluetooth.

«Speak of the devil. Miss Lounds, what can I do for you?»

«Mr Crawford?» Her voice sounds scared. «There’s, huh, something you should see. I haven’t touched anything, i swear.»

***

A red-haired woman wearing a bright purple coat and a leopard print bag is talking to an agent, just outside the motel. Her eyes are wide, and she seems terrified.

As soon as she sees Jack, she runs towards him.

«Jack.»

«Miss Lounds.»

Oh, so she's Freddie Lounds! She wore her hair differently in that photo I saw online.

She looks shaken, there's nothing of that loudness and shamelessness that Jack and Will have mentioned. Will...

«Jack, I haven't touched anything. The door was locked, I've been away all day, and there was nothing strange, except, well...» She bites her red-painted lips.

«Is there a corpse in there?» I ask.

Freddie looks at me as if I were a really interesting specimen. «I don't believe we've ever met before.» All her distress about dead bodies seems vanished.

«I'm Gabriela-»

«Save that for later.» Jack rushes to the door. Can't deny that I'm curious. If only Will was here too.

The coppery smell of blood permeates the air, but I can’t see anything out of the ordinary, just blue wallpaper and tacky lampshades.

Price and Zeller are standing in front of what looks like Lounds' desk.

«What do we have here?» Jack's voice makes them part, to show two hearts - human hearts, I'm sure - pierced together by an arrow. It’s a fancy, gold painted arrow, not a product of modern archery. They lay on Freddie Lounds' papers, now drenched in blood. A single drop of blood trails along the desk’s leg to the carpet.

«What the hell is this?» Jack sighs.

«It looks like a postcard.» Zeller offers a shy smile.

«Well, there is a postcard, actually.» Price points to a small envelope tied to the arrow’s tip.

Jack sighs and adjusts his blue gloves, then unties the knot of the envelope.

The room falls silent. 

Two photographs, squared like Polaroids. In the first one Will has his arm around a man - no, not a man, _the_ man, Hannibal Lecter - and they’re both smiling. In the second one, taken a few seconds later, clearly, they’re unmistakably kissing. 

A few notes are scribbled behind the first photograph. «Hi Freddie,» Jack reads, his voice devoid of any tone, any emotion. «Consider this a parting gift, since you will not be able to write anything else about us, not anymore. Rest assured, we are very happy. This is our design.» He swallows. «Say hi to Jack. Signed, Will and Hannibal.»

He trembles like a volcano, like an earthquake.

«I, huh, tried calling the BSHCI.» Zeller draws breath through his nose. «No answers.» 

The silence is interrupted by the faint clicking of Freddie Lounds’ camera.

**Author's Note:**

> If I could get away with writing a fanfic like a script (mostly dialogue), I probably would :D 
> 
> The title and episode titles are borrowed from Dimmu Borgir's album Eonian ([link](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gBgz7QfolcI)), which was my soundtrack while writing this. The quote at the beginning is from the first song, "The Unveiling".  
> If you're curious, learn more about:  
> [The Beast of Gévaudan](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beast_of_G%C3%A9vaudan)  
> [Ulysses in the Divine Comedy](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Odysseus#Middle_Ages_and_Renaissance%20rel=)
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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